Shall we dance?
by freenchie
Summary: Based on various prompts on tumblr - Red and Elizabeth at some point during the upcoming 14th episode.


_Soooo - it's been ages since I have written my last fanfiction and I feel as if I'm "out of business" so to speak. However, thanks to tumblr and that lovely facebook group, I felt inspired to write this little something._

Preliminary remarks: I'm not a native speaker and although I study English I am not as proficient as I would like to be - so forgive me any mistakes (grammar wise or spelling errors).

_Have fun reading :)_

Soft orange light illuminated the interior of the slowly moving car, dancing over the light coloured seats, over dark clad legs and over the bright spot of color that was a woman clad in a red dress.  
Outside to the car grey houses flitted by, intersected by the bright and colourful lights of small shops and window displays. The streets were filled with people, bursting with life, while he sat inside of this car, lost in increasingly dark thoughts. He desperately wanted to close his eyes, tilt his head back until he could feel the smooth leather of the backrest and bring more and more distance between himself and everything else - his so called job, his promises, his enemies.

Although he wanted all that, he could not let his guard down - yet.

She sat next to him, fidgeting with her purse which was clasped tightly between her hands, shuffling her feet, clearing her throat once in a while. The tension in the car was palpable, rolling of her in waves, crashing against his shoulders, settling in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't that he hadn't tried to talk to her. She had looked out of sorts, confused, angry and somewhat sad and he had tried to put a smile on that beautiful face. Had tried to get a rise out of her, when amusing her did not seem to work.

His face turned to the window, he allowed himself a small frown. He had a pretty good idea who had put this expression on her face.

He had tried to distance himself, had told himself that he had to get away again, that she was getting too close. He knew - or at least he strongly suspected, that she would be safer without him, without him putting her in dangerous situations, without him constantly interfering. He knew, that he should have stayed in the shadows, protecting her from afar. But of course he couldn't. He simply had to barge into her perfect little fantasy life, ruining it from day one. He suppressed a snort. At least that was what she had hinted - except for the fantasy part. And yet… the expression on her face, when he had strolled into her living room a few weeks ago - the soft smile she had tried to stifle, the hopeful tilt of her voice when she had addressed him.

She cleared her throat again, effectively pulling him out of his musings. He turned towards her and she smiled a nervous, somewhat strained smile that never reached her eyes, before turning her face towards the window again, starring intently into the illuminated streets. Quietly his eyes scanned her appearance. Sitting next to him, smelling of soap and a heady perfume that he had not smelled on her before, clad in that close fitting red dress, that left nothing and yet everything to his imagination, he felt even more drawn to her than before. He had seen her stripped from all masks, at her worst - tear stained, blood stained, furious and completely devastated - and still, he could not help but be mesmerized by her. He had watched over her when she was younger, had admired her for her strength and her drive when she got older and had felt an even stronger pull towards her in the months leading up to his surrender. However, nothing had him prepared for their first meeting - he had literally felt like a schoolboy on date. Even a pen stuck into his neck did not change his admiration - it had put those feelings up a notch if possible.

She did not trust him, neither in the beginning nor now, she had demanded a professional and distant partnership and told him exactly what she thought of him, and yet she was sitting next to him, had even sought him in her worst moments. She threw him off. Everytime he thought he would be able to grasp her, she twisted and turned and slipped through his fingers like a fish. It was frustrating.

His eyes wandered from her profile to her hands, which had been tightly clasped together but were now disentangled, with one hand rubbing the scar on her wrist. He wanted to put his hand over hers, take them into his hands. He wanted to pull her closer, soothe her worries. Nevertheless, he could not. Not yet, not now - if ever.

His eyes scanned her again. The red dress. The dress that showed off enough skin to distract him. Red. He smiled softly.

This evening was going to be torture.

Worse than anything else he had endured.

»You'll be my plus one.« he had said confidently. And now his words were haunting him.

»Here we are.« Dembes soft voice filled the car and Red, whose face had betrayed nothing of his inner turmoil, nodded before his face returned to his jovial but blank mask he often wore. Elizabeth, who had be less tense in the past few minutes, tensed up again, her breathing slightly irregular. She was nervous. After he had opened his seatbelt he laid a hand on her arm, leaning towards her.

»Calm down sweetheart. No need to be nervous - you're with me in there. So, whatever happens, I will be there.« His eyes were boring into hers. »Do you understand that?« She nodded.  
»Very good! Put a smile on that beautiful face of yours and let's go!« he clapped his hands and got out of the car, rounding it and opening her door. She took his offered hand and slipped it around his arm, grasping it. He patted her hand softly, soothingly. Red hoped that the atmosphere, the company, the dancing and the insurmountable amount of alcohol available would help her to relax a bit and enjoy herself. Leading her up the steps and through the doors, they entered the ballroom together - greeted by various scents and ubiquitous noises of chattering people.

»Champagne?« A waiter had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, holding a tray with flutes of the sparkling beverage. Red felt the woman next to him flinch.

»Of course!« He grabbed two flutes, even if he preferred Scotch to this, and pressed one of it into her hand, his arm circling her waist shortly after. Momentarily he was distracted by the smooth skin his hand grazed in the process.

»But, I can't…« she protested halfheartedly, looking a mixture between frustrated and grateful.

»Oh, sure you an, Lizzy. Ease up a bit. Those occasions tend to be dreadfully boring if you are so tense. Enjoy yourself - that is why we're here afterall.« he said, with a smirk. »Well, except for this unfortunates business part.« he added, laughing. His laugh sounded false, even in his own ears and he inwardly cringed. With a frown she took a small sip, turning away from him.

Her back was rigid.

Sighing, Red leaned towards her, while rubbing small, calming circles on her back, and whispered: »Smile Lizzy. Pretend to like it. They're most likely watching us and we should at least try to fit in. However with you stiff as a board, we're sticking out like a sore thumb.« She nodded and he kept his hand were it was - on her back. After a small pause, that bordered on being uncomfortable, she murmured »Tom demanded a little time apart.«

She sounded incredibly upset. He congratulated the man inwardly for finally taking the right steps - steps away from the woman on his arm - but felt a certain amount of loathing for Tom Keen, who had taken away so much from Lizzy. Red pulled her closer and finally she seemed to relax, melting into his side. Gulping down the rest of the sparkling liquid, he stepped away from her, taking her glas with him, putting it onto a nearby tray. Indignation crossed her face, before surprise replaced it, as he held out his hand. Looking from the offered hand to his face and back again, he decided to take another step into her direction.

»I feel like dancing.« he stated, waiting patiently for her to take his hand.

She looked at him like a deer caught in the headlights. »Dancing?«  
»Yes Lizzy, dancing. We're at a ball, an occasion which includes a certain amount of dancing.« And after a moment:«You can dance, can't you?«

»..yes.«

After a pause she took his hand.

Red lead her to the dance floor, slowly and softly taking her hand into his, drawing her closer until he could feel the warmth radiating off her, all the while he couldn't wipe an honest smile of his face. A smile that he knew lit up his face and most importantly his eyes.

She followed his movements easily and after a few minutes of dancing the rest of the tension that had inhabited her body left for good. She even stepped closer to him, leaning against his chest. And before he could say something - anything - she looked up and smiled a smile that caused warmth and a strange feeling, that went deeper than the admiration or the need to protect her he had felt, to spread through his body like a wildfire.

Whatever was going to happen tonight, with this feeling inside of him and this woman next to him, he felt as if he would be able to face any challenge or any danger head on.


End file.
